Work it Out - KiriKami

16 ~ First Step

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Days slipped by in a haze, and Denki kept his distance from Eijirou. He avoided him in the halls, skipped meals if he thought their schedules might overlap, rerouted his steps like Eijirou was a live wire he couldn't risk touching. And yet, when he wasn't avoiding him, he was thinking about him. Missing him. Wanting him close, then resenting himself for it.

His thoughts twisted in on themselves—affection tangled with anger, longing curled up beside shame. One moment he ached for Eijirou's presence, the next he couldn't bear the idea of seeing him again. His mind was a storm he couldn't find the eye of, and he was tired of trying to outrun it.

Thankfully, his first therapy appointment was scheduled for that afternoon.

The school had recently partnered with a local mental health clinic to offer emergency support for students dealing with trauma, and the only thing required to get started was a guardian's consent. Denki's grandmother hadn't hesitated. She didn't know all the details—he hadn't told her, not really—but she had raised him. She knew the look of pain he tried to hide. She'd watched him carry too much for too long.

She had always worried about what the aftermath of his childhood might look like, and now with villains in the picture and his silence growing heavier by the day, she was quietly relieved he'd agreed to go. Therapy had already been on her mind. The school just gave her the opening.

That afternoon, Aizawa drove Denki to the clinic. He pulled up to the curb outside and let Denki out with a quiet, "I'll meet you inside in a minute." Then he pulled the car around toward the garage.

Denki stood there for a moment before stepping into the building, nerves twisting in his stomach. The lobby was sterile and quiet, save for the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional turning of a magazine page. He sank into one of the chairs, bouncing his leg, his hands fiddling with the zipper of his hoodie. He hated the waiting. Hated the not knowing.

A few minutes later, Aizawa stepped in, gave the front desk his name, and signed the necessary forms. He didn't say much—just rested a hand on Denki's shoulder before the therapist called his name.

The session was... fine.

He couldn't bring himself to share much. Every question that poked at his past was met with a shrug or a vague answer. The therapist, Makoto-san, didn't push. Instead, she stayed on the surface, talking through how Denki was feeling in the moment. Confused. Angry. Tired. Like everything inside him was broken glass and he couldn't figure out how to pick it all up without bleeding.

By the end of the hour, Makoto had only one theory she offered gently: possible borderline personality disorder.

She didn't label him, didn't try to make it final. Just floated the idea as something to explore further. Something to maybe explain the intensity of his emotions, the fear of abandonment, the constant shifting between love and hate.

Denki didn't say much in response. He just nodded and stared at the floor, unsure if he felt seen... or exposed.

Either way, something inside him had started to stir.

And maybe that was enough for the first step.

"So," Makoto said gently, her voice soft, "we've got about ten minutes left. Is there anything else you'd like to talk about, or should we wrap up here?"

Denki was quiet for a moment. Then, hesitantly, he asked, "Would... Would you forgive someone—like, if your boyfriend broke a promise to keep a secret, but he only did it because he was worried about you? For your safety?"

Makoto let out a thoughtful sigh. "I can't tell you what to do, Denki. That choice is yours. But if it were me in that situation... I'd at least try to forgive him. Sometimes, we can't. Even when we want to, the hurt is just too deep. But if we believe—truly believe—that the decision came from love and concern, then it might be worth trying. From what you've said, it really sounds like your boyfriend acted out of love. That kind of intent doesn't erase the pain, but it can be the first step toward understanding it."

Denki nodded slowly, his voice trembling. "I... I love him too. But... he promised. Why would he promise if he was just going to tell someone anyway? Why would he lie to me?"

Makoto tilted her head slightly, her expression calm and thoughtful. "Are you sure he lied? It's possible that when he made that promise, he fully meant to keep it. But then, something changed. Maybe he realized later that keeping the promise would hurt more than breaking it. That doesn't make the broken promise disappear, but it might help to understand when the decision shifted. If he lied from the beginning, that's one thing. But if he made a mistake—if he realized too late that the promise wasn't one he could keep—could you forgive that?"

Denki took a moment, chewing on her words. "I... I think so. That wouldn't be lying, really. That would be... realizing he made a mistake by making the promise in the first place. And the only way to fix it was to break it. It hurt me, yeah... but if he hadn't said something, it might've ended up hurting him, right?"

Makoto nodded. "That's very possible. If keeping the promise meant watching you suffer when he knew he could help... that would've taken a toll on him too. Especially if he felt responsible. But remember, this is all still hypothetical. We won't know what was really going through his head unless you talk to him."

Denki frowned, his knee bouncing anxiously. "I... I don't know if I can."

"What's stopping you?" Makoto asked gently.

He shrugged, shoulders tight. "I don't know..."

Makoto glanced at the clock, then back at him. "We're just about out of time. You don't have to decide anything right now—not today, not even tomorrow. Let yourself sit with it. If you're still unsure by the time we meet again, we'll start there."

"And... if I have decided?"

"Then we talk about that," Makoto replied with a warm smile. "These sessions are for you, Denki—for whatever you need most in the moment. Right now, it seems like this disruption in your support system is a top concern. So we'll focus on that. Stabilizing your support network, helping you manage emotional dysregulation, and continuing to build our rapport—that's my working plan for next time. But it's flexible. If something else comes up, we adjust."

Denki shook his head, lips twitching in the ghost of a smile. "No, that sounds... good. I guess."

Makoto stood and offered a reassuring smile. "If you'd like, we can also go over some treatment options in more detail next time. For today, though, we're done. I'll walk you out. Your guardian is waiting in the lobby."

"Temporary guardian," Denki corrected as he stood. "My grandma's my guardian. Aizawa just signed some papers to help out while I'm at boarding school. A lot of my classmates' parents did that. They... they actually have parents. Or at least one."

Makoto's heart softened, but she only said, "Your teacher, then," while mentally noting to revisit that later. She guided him gently toward the office door.

As Denki stepped into the hall, his eyes immediately found Aizawa waiting in the lobby, patient as always.

"He's a good teacher, though," Denki said, almost to himself. "Best I've ever had."